The Ruler of Reality: Flynt's Arrest (Chapter One)

There weren’t always dragons in the valley, but lots of things had changed since Cerunem Ropreglow came into power. Like the trolls of the Osrafuth Mountains moving north into the forests around the Lakefolk lands or the Yaftans fleeing Danselom.

Flynt knew little of dragons and trolls. She knew even less about Yaftans. What she did know was the house wouldn’t clean itself, or at least she knew that’s what her mother always said though they never tried it.

Flynt’s house was placed high enough on the hillside to get a good view of the dragons but far back enough to not be in danger of any fiery outbursts. She could see the giant cages and shackles made from a material she could not identify. She could see the dragon guards and some local magic folk attempting to contain the dragons. She could see the neighbours to her left and right neglecting their daily tasks and watching the mild dragon based chaos in the valley below just as she was. What Flynt could not see was any reason for the dragons to be here in the first place. But again Flynt knew little of dragons.

From deep within the hillside Flynt's father called. Flynt was reluctant to leave her front row seat of the dragons but knew it was best to not ignore her parents. The home stretched into the hillside like others in the area. Flynt had thought many times about how long it would take to dig it all out. Until she learned that the magic folk had carved the homes into the hillside and no one had ever had to dig for a place to live. This particular home had a large circular hall at its entrance which led into a conversational seating room. To the left of this was the kitchen which led into the living room and then onto the bedroom. To the right a door to the bathroom and a much longer corridor which wrapped around to the bedroom. The bathroom also connected to the living room. These were just the rooms towards the front of the home. Drugon homes, especially the hillside ones, had many layered rooms and corridors. The idea being that once you had a home you could raise several generations without needing to move.

Flynt's father called again from a little further inside the hill. Flynt made her way through the home. The sounds of the outside world and its natural light dissipated with each step. Various boxes were scattered around this section of the home and in a room on Flynt’s left behind some more boxes and a large chair was Flynt's father.

“Finally,” Coel said, “Can you help me shift this?” He gestured to a dresser near the doorway.

“Sure, Dad,” Flynt replied.

“Y’know, we’re lucky we have a hillside home and not the underground types in the valley, I wouldn’t fancy being so close to those dragons!” Coel said as they shifted the dresser.

“I mean for Eroc’s sake, the Rockerly’s garden got burnt to a crisp the other day.”

“I still don’t understand why the dragons are here, Dad,” Flynt said.

With a slight grunt they placed the dresser down and Coel leaned against it.

”Well, I don’t really understand myself love but there was a vote taken and it was agreed they should come here. I don’t know anyone personally who voted for them coming here, but here is where they are.”

“That doesn’t really explain why they had to come here, someone decided they should so they did,” Flynt replied.

As the hours ticked by the room filled with more furniture and bric-a-brac and fewer boxes. The look of a study was coming together with a large writing desk, a well padded chair, several bookcases and an ever growing assortment of books, candles, pens and papers.

“I think it’s time for a break don’t you?” Coel asked and walked out of the room without waiting for an answer.

Steam rose from the whistling kettle, Flynt sat at the kitchen table staring at the wall and taking in not one detail. She was deep in her thoughts. The dragons pulled her focus every time she blinked. The thuds of Coel’s feet grew in volume as he climbed the stairs back up from the cold room.

“Got the milk, love, you could’ve poured the water,” He said, making his way over to the whistling kettle and pouring it into the pot.

“Is that tea I smell?” came a call from the window. A head floated just in view and beamed into the house.

“Yes, Dearth, perfectly timed as ever!” Coel spoke with the air of someone who was not fond of constantly providing his neighbour with tea , but the smile on his face was genuine. “Well do come in, Dearth, we were just fixing up Flynt’s study but there’s always time for a tea break.” The head disappeared from the window side and reappeared in the kitchen a few moments later with an entire body attached.

“So, how are we finding the new home,” Dearth said, taking a seat at the table across from Flynt.

“Oh well you know, I don’t much like to think what all the folk have been saying but the home itself is lovely.”

In Drugon culture the only reason to move into a home where no family currently resided was due to a separation and a lack of elders. It was far more common to move into the woman’s generational home, or if the couple had two women or no women or they weren’t a couple at all, more a collection of multiple people, then it was customary to move into the generational home of the eldest in that relationship. Flynt’s parents had decided for reasons Flynt didn’t really understand, to split up. The natural next step was for her father to move out and back into his parent’s generational home and for Flynt to stay with her mother, but two very specific conditions meant that was not their current situation. One, was that Coel’s parents had died long ago, as had his grandparents and so on, meaning that Coel had no generational home to call his own, that is until they had moved into this one, and two, was that Flynt had just surpassed the age of childhood into adulthood a few days after the split and had therefore earned the right to choose and in this instance she had chosen to stay with her father.

“I wouldn’t worry about what anyone out there thinks, Coel, there's dragons, you’re not more interesting than dragons,” Dearth smirked, “At least not this week. Anyway, speaking of dragons, I think they’ve done it on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” Flynt asked, sitting upright and looking to Dearth, maybe he had more answers than she would’ve expected. Coel poured the pot and prepared the three drinks paying little attention to the ideas of Dearth.

”Well,” Dearth said, facing Flynt and smiling, “Dragons and Drugons, pretty similar names aren’t they, I think whoever voted on it is laughing at us, a joke at our expense.” Flynt slid back down into her seat and thanked her father for the tea. Why she thought Dearth would know any more than they did she wasn’t sure, but she had to get answers from somewhere.

Over the next few hours Dearth and Coel had many things to discuss, from the upkeep of Dearth’s herbs to the rumours of hounds in Camseleni. The pot of tea drained and the sun drifted through the sky. Flynt had said little during the conversation, switching from listening to the back and forth to pondering the potential layouts of her new home. At one point she made sandwiches and warmed up some soup for the trio and while she did so she gazed at the dragons down in the valley. They were, for the most part, settled down there, or at least there were no longer magicfolk attempting to tame them. When the sky became the shining gold that signalled the sun would soon be leaving Dearth said his goodbyes.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Dearth,” Coel said from the hall. Flynt had remained in the kitchen, she found Dearth to be quite draining over long periods and was thankful for the break.

“Oh yes, yes,” said Dearth, “and you Coel, and you! Goodbye Flynt!” Dearth called through the kitchen window as he passed by.

“Goodbye Dearth!” Flynt called back.

“Ahh another visitor already!” Coel exclaimed as a youngman barreled towards him.

“Hello Coel, is Flynt in there,” the young man asked.

“She is indeed son, just in the kitchen,” Coel moved aside as he spoke and in walked the new guest.

Flynt had heard the arrival and on recognising the voice she smiled and turned away from the kitchen clutter with open arms. “Lem!” she cried and was met with equally open arms.

Lem was not one of the Drugon, he was an Etre. The Etre lived atop the hills of the Drugon in homes that mimicked the local trees. They had thick trunks and instead of the spreading and splitting branches of an oak it was as though someone had duplicated, shrank and reattached the trunk several times up the sides of the actual trunk. The Etre shared many traditions, special occasions and beliefs with the Drugon but they did not call their God, Eroc. The Etre God was named Otro. Unlike the underground generational homes of the Drugon, the Etre‘s generational homes rose upwards like towers. They differed from one another in other ways too. The Drugon people had larger ears and eyes that were a dash bulgier than the Etre’s. Whereas the Etre had larger arms, hands and fingers. They shared a colour palette in fashion of greens and browns but where the Drugon favoured greens paired with browns the Etre favoured browns paired with greens. No one had ever heard of a lasting romantic relationship between an Etre and a Drugon but their platonic connections were strong and frequent.

Lem lifted Flynt off the ground in a welcoming embrace and almost knocked her head against the ceiling. Upon a safe return to the ground Flynt asked, “How are you? I thought we were meeting later on at one of the sun spots?”

“We were, but, I think we should go and see the dragons instead,” Lem said. He sat in the nearest chair and continued to explain the story he‘d heard not twenty minutes ago.

At the local bar a group of the dragon guards had taken a table in the corner for themselves. While the rest of the bar was populated with the usual mix of happy, well fed and more than likely drunk locals all creating a simmering background of energetic noise. This corner was much more solemn. The drinks had not yet arrived as they were still on the tray in Lem’s hand. His job in the bar was more fluid than most as Lem had a charismatic nature that allowed him more freedom than other people dared to ask for. The dragon guards were quiet in their speech but not as secretive as they may have wished. Lem approached the table and placed the drinks in front of each guard. They did not pay any attention to him and remained leaned towards one another in pairs and trios.

“It’s not right though, is it.”

“It doesn’t matter, we have a job to do.”

“But they’re not beasts.”

Lem made his leave but hovered at an empty table two over and cleared away the empty glasses and plates that had been left behind.

“A vote’s, a vote.”

“You can’t vote people out of their homes, why can they vote the dragons out.”

“Dragons aren’t people.”

“They think. They even speak!”

“Speak!” Flynt cried, interrupting Lem’s story.

“Well exactly!” Lem said, “All the papers phrased it like a new animal, fresh wildlife, was being introduced to the area.”

“I haven’t heard them say anything,” Flynt said, taking the seat across from Lem, “I haven’t heard anyone say anything.”

“This is the thing, I would’ve thought a Drugon might’ve heard something but like you said it seems none of you have. They had the magicfolk down there didn’t they? Maybe they’ve done something,” Lem said, his eyebrows raised as he looked at Flynt, a smirk lived inside his eyes. A suggestion of adventure without the hint of a word.

“So, we’re going to sneak down to the Dragons and investigate. But how are we supposed to cross the land from here to there?” Flynt asked. Once the sun set on the area the sun spots came to life. A flower that grew in many places around town, emanating light and heat as if they were the descendants of long forgotten campfires. On an evening the Drugon and the Etre would meet at the sun spots, tell stories, sing, drink and relax. Between Flynt’s home and the Dragons there were many sun sports, which meant many people.

“Getting past our own people shouldn’t be too bad, if we walk with confidence I don’t think anyone would really care or notice. But I don’t know what the dragon guards do come nightfall. Nor do I know what the magicfolk might’ve put in place. But we can find out together, can’t we?” Lem said, the light of several sun spots were ablaze in his eyes. Flynt’s leg bounced at the thought.She wanted to know about the dragons but she didn’t want any trouble. But if the dragons could speak, who better to tell her about them, than themselves? And if they are here against their own will…

“Alright, let’s do it!”